


the weight of gold

by Ravenheart



Category: Black Sails
Genre: (short-lived tho), Alternate Universe - Canon, Flint is mostly just Flint, Happy Ending, Light Angst, M/M, Misunderstandings, Oblivious Flint, Pining, Sex Worker John Silver, a surprising lack of smut considering the setting, flint pov, not that I write anything else but just in case
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-30
Updated: 2020-04-30
Packaged: 2021-03-01 17:34:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,859
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23930884
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ravenheart/pseuds/Ravenheart
Summary: As soon as his feet touched the sands of Nassau, he felt his body veer towards the brothel before his mind was even aware of his destination. It was far from surprising, though. Simple muscle memory; the path to that particular chamber was so well-worn he'd have known it blindfolded. He truly ought to hate himself for the cliché he had become, and yet he had so many reasons for self-loathing that this particular fault almost faded into the background most days.He walked with purpose, his surroundings a blur, his mind fixed on one thing only.Or, well, one man.
Relationships: Captain Flint | James McGraw/John Silver
Comments: 10
Kudos: 78





	the weight of gold

**Author's Note:**

> this was going to be a gifset. have this instead?

As soon as his feet touched the sands of Nassau, he felt his body veer towards the brothel before his mind was even aware of his destination. It was far from surprising, though. Simple muscle memory; the path to that particular chamber was so well-worn he'd have known it blindfolded. He truly ought to hate himself for the cliché he had become, and yet he had so many reasons for self-loathing that this particular fault almost faded into the background most days.

He walked with purpose, his surroundings a blur, his mind fixed on one thing only.

Or, well, one _man_.

He knew Max would have procured a room for him the second she'd heard of his arrival, and the mere thought of who awaited beyond that door made him walk faster.

Flint stormed in, the sound of raucous laughter from the drunk and well-fucked a hardship he'd learned to endure over his frequent visits. He found that keeping his mind on the prize helped in more realms than one.

"He's been waiting for you," Max said in lieu of a proper greeting when she spotted him not two seconds after Flint set foot in the place. 

He smirked. "I will make sure to make up for the wait." Not that he'd truly had to wait long; Flint had all but run there.

Her lips pursed slightly, somewhere between disapproving and resigned, as she smoothed the non-existent wrinkles in her blue dress. "I doubt you possess enough gold for that." 

He frowned at that, unsure of what she was getting at. He never skirted payment; in fact, he could have been labeled a generous contributor to the establishment and they both knew it.

She sighed, unwilling to elaborate, which suited Flint just fine; he had more important matters to focus on. She merely looked away and said, "Go."

*

Silver's lips were on his as soon as Flint closed the door. He found himself pressed against the wall, Silver's hands trailing up to pull lightly at his hair, nails scraping. A groan, and Silver's teeth tracing a path down his jaw, his neck, and suddenly an impatient hand tugging at his collar. Silver pulled back a little to dispose Flint of his clothes but stopped himself at the last moment, hands still and blue eyes searching.

"You're not hurt, are you?" Before he had a chance to answer, he added, "Do _not_ lie to me."

"That was _one_ time," he mumbled defensively.

'You'd been stabbed." A very unimpressed eyebrow. " _Are you hurt_?" He repeated.

Flint rolled his eyes, trying not to show how warm Silver's attention made him feel. It didn't mean anything, anyway. "Just a scratch, but it was weeks ago," he assured him. "I'm fine."

He squinted at him for a moment but eventually nodded, apparently satisfied. " _Weeks_ , Captain," he complained, surging forward and nosing at his neck, sucking at his pulse point. "I missed you so fucking much."

Flint's heart gave a nasty twist at that.

Because it was not enough that he was a pirate in a whorehouse, he had gone and become the epitome of all things predictable.

He had fallen for Silver, as if their relationship weren't based on how much gold Flint could part with every time he returned to shore in that godforsaken town.

"I missed you too, Silver," Silver mimicked Flint's voice. "I couldn't wait to have you in my arms again."

He ignored the jab, reaching for Silver's shirt and grabbing him by the collar, pulling him closer as he whispered into his ear, "I found it."

The last piece of the puzzle; finally, the horizon was clear, the path to their destinies carved solidly.

Silver's breath caught. "Are you certain?" He searched Flint's face, wonder and hope clear in his eyes.

Flint smiled, nodding before bringing their lips together hungrily, biting at Silver's lower lip as if he were the last meal he'd ever have. 

God, he had missed Silver so much. He missed him even now, knowing his touch was nothing but temporary.

"Your lead was good," he panted against his mouth. "One more battle, and the gold is won."

He'd promised him a portion of the prize in exchange for coaxing information out of unwilling mouths, and they both stood to be richer than their wildest dreams when the venture succeeded.

"I very much think that's cause for celebration." Silver smirked. "Any suggestions, Captain?" Then he leaned forward and bit lightly at his lobe before murmuring, "Because I've had a really long time to picture every single thing I want to do to you and you to me, and days only have so many hours." His hand trailed downwards, stopping right over Flint's crotch.

"Is that so?" He stifled a groan as the pressure of Silver's hand increased meaningfully. "I guess you'll have to show me, then."

The glint in Silver's blue eyes acknowledged the challenge.

The edge to his lopsided smile was a promise.

***

They almost didn't make it. There were men where there were supposed to be none, a devil of a storm so terrible that no sailor could have conjured it up in their worst nightmares, and finally two endless weeks with no wind.

They reached Nassau depleted, and starved, and torn, but they did so richer than any other pirate alive or dead.

As his tired feet made their way to the whorehouse, Flint fought to keep himself under control. So much had happened, and so much was still to come. The gold was finally in his hands, and so was his future, and yet it had never seemed so uncertain as it did in that moment. It was a strange feeling, achieving a goal so relentlessly pursued.

He crossed the doors, scanning the room and finding Max sitting with Bonny close to the stairs. He approached them, every step agony and pleasure at once. A rich man, even one in excruciating pain, was still fucking rich.

"And so he returns." Max had, of course, a vested interest in the matter as well. "Should I pour you a drink or ask my companion here for her assistance?"

He spared no thought to the threat. "It's ours," he grunted and saw her eyes spark with delight. His gaze shifted upwards before he could stop himself. "Is he around?"

Her eyes widened slightly as she gave him an incredulous once-over. "You can barely stand, and yet you ask for him? I'm sure it can wait." She wrinkled her nose and added, "I won't have you die here." She eyed him like she actually expected him to plummet right there and then.

" _Is he around_?" He repeated, this time more firmly. 

"When is he not, when it is for you?" She said with the same tone of disapproval she always showed when Flint was there. He didn't care enough about her opinion to even question why his regularity bothered her. It was merely a fact, like the charm of her accent, or the edge to her eyes when someone thought they could cross her. "Whatever you do tonight, it is on the house. Whatever _he agrees to_." The last part was unnecessary, but Flint nodded all the same.

*

Like an echo of his last visit, Flint opened the door to find Silver reaching out an once. This time, however, he came up short at the sight of Flint's—well, everything.

"What the _fuck_ happened to you?" As he asked, he pulled him gently into the room and towards the bed. "I'll go get bandages."

He raised a hand slowly. "That's really not necessary." Flint sat down, wincing a little in the process. That stab wound would bother him for a while. "The medic's taken care of it. It'll just—take time to heal."

"I see." Silver frowned like he wanted to argue and strip him naked just to make sure he wasn't lying. He bit the inside of his cheek and reluctantly joined him by the bed, sitting with his shin pressed to Flint's thigh. He reached out with his left hand and brushed the hair out of Flint's eyes; he couldn't help the rush of _want_ that went through him at the gesture. He'd been deprived of Silver's touch for so long that even the briefest of contacts was overwhelming.

God, parting with him was going to destroy Flint. What an absolute fool he was.

"I was worried," Silver murmured, fingers trailing lightly over a gash on his cheek. "You'd been gone for so long." He pressed a featherlight kiss to the corner of his mouth, and Flint's eyes fluttered shut against his will. Another soft kiss, this time on his lips, Silver's breath hot and real against him.

He swallowed thickly and forced his eyes open to say, "I told you I'd get us that gold, didn't I?"

Silver retreated slightly, his brow furrowing as he said, "I meant worried about _you_."

He ignored the feeling fighting to surface at the words and bit out, "Save it."

Silver froze, hesitant for a moment before he asked, "What's that supposed to mean?"

"The gold is won, Silver. You're rich now." He battled against the knot in his throat. "There is no need to pretend anymore."

"Pretend?" He sounded hurt, which genuinely bothered Flint. Had Silver truly thought him that much of a gullible idiot? Was he under the notion that Flint believed half of what he said, in bed or out of it? It was all a perfectly crafted illusion, and even if Flint's heart had been seized, his mind had not.

Granted, he was sometimes inclined to forget, especially during lazy mornings with warm and wandering hands. Silver's curls splayed on the pillow, his smile brighter than the sun at midday, his eyes bluer and deeper than any and all travelled oceans. In those moments, Flint almost believed him. Almost believed the twinkle in his eye as he spoke of what the future might hold.

But, in the end, Flint always forced himself to remember. Whatever kindness or desire he ever saw in Silver's eyes, it was always fuelled by the promise of payment. It wasn't love but the weight of gold that kept him sharing Flint's bed. There was no more to it.

Flint disregarded the question. "I did not come up for your services tonight. I just wanted to share the news. I suppose you'll want to leave this place as soon as possible." Silver had said so repeatedly; whatever future he desired, it involved leaving Nassau behind.

Silver looked at him as if he'd been speaking a foreign tongue.

"I—You want me to _leave_?"

It was his love for Silver that stopped Flint from snapping at him, even though he wanted to. He took a deep breath and said, "You provided a service for me, with everything that entailed. And that is a service that you will no longer be providing from this day onwards." He hoped he had stored enough memories to last him a lifetime.

He hoped he'd be strong enough to revisit them, eventually.

"I provided a service," Silver said slowly, blinking at him with wide eyes. 

"Are you just going to repeat everything I say?"

"I—" Silver licked his lips. "It appears to me that you and I are not on the same page."

Flint definitely agreed there. They'd stopped being on the same page the second Flint's stupid heart had decided to cling onto soft lips, softer curls, the softest of smiles. "For a man so clever, you're being awfully slow about this. You have your money and I have mine." Flint could feel his own hand burying the invisible dagger that would break his heart forever. "There is nothing else holding us together. Our partnership is over." 

Silence.

And then, "You—You're serious about this?" Silver's face was unreadable. "You mean to tell me you have come here practically _every_ night you're on Nassau soil, to _my_ bed and nobody else's in this miserable piece of land, and it was all so I'd trust you enough to lead you to the gold?"

"What?" Flint hadn't even known Silver had had the power to acquire such knowledge when he'd first fallen into his bed. That had been nothing but the stars aligning in his favor, providing him with the tools to move forward.

Too bad stars could not be trusted for anything other than sailing; they were bound to betray sooner or later, spelling cruel fates for even the most experienced of seafarers.

"You _used_ me," Silver accused, tone rising as he did.

Flint blinked, Silver's thinking a mystery to him. "What the fuck are you talking about?"

"I thought—" Silver's eyes were openly wounded now, and Flint gaped at him as he tried to make sense of it all. "God, I was so stupid." He turned away, putting his arms around himself. "I should have known not to trust you," he said bitterly. "Why was I to be special in any regard? And to _you_ , of all people? The vicious, arrogant, and self-important Captain Flint." Laughter, dry and ugly. "Max was right all along. I told her it wasn't so. Told her to give you the benefit of the doubt. But you _were_ using me, after all."

So that shed some light on the Max issue; too bad it didn't clarify anything else. "I don't understand how I could have possibly used you." _Vicious. Arrogant. Self-important_. Nothing he hadn't heard before, both to his face and behind his back, and yet it hurt to hear those words from Silver's lips. "You have more gold than you could dream of."

Silver spun around and snarled, "Fuck the gold." He exhaled harshly and went on, "You made me think I mattered to you!" He took a step forward, and yet the distance between them seemed to grow. "You could have been forthright and told me you wanted to make a deal, but instead you decided to deceive me? To make me think we'd have a future together after this?"

Flint's heart keeled over as the words registered. "I never said such thing." Only in his mind, only in his dreams, but certainly not to Silver. The words would have probably caught in his throat if he'd ever tried to utter them.

"I asked you," he took a shaky breath before going on, "where you'd like to go after the treasure was procured. And you spoke of a house. Away from the sea, away from pain and prejudice and—some place where love didn't seem like an impossibility."

"I did say that," he acquiesced, "but I didn't mean—" _with you_ , he'd been about to say, but that would have been a lie. He stood up, his aching muscles no match for the feelings in his heart. "Silver, I have _never_ used you. That much I can promise." He took a careful step closer to him. "You matter to me more than I can properly express. More than I have any right to care. I just—never realized it was mutual."

Everything stilled as realization slowly began to dawn on Silver. "How could it have escaped you? I've told you repeatedly that I miss you. I fucking worry about you! Before you leave, every goddamned time, I lie awake wondering whether it will be our last night together. I save every touch, every breath in my memory like it might be, so that if you never return I'll have something to remember you by. And now you're telling me that, what? You thought I was lying all along?"

Flint raised his arms in frustration. "It's your _job_! People like me pay people like you to hear those things."

Silver looked at him in disbelief. "No, Flint. People pay me to fuck. They do not pay me to ask if they're hurt so I can tend to their wounds. They do not pay me to talk about our foolish hopes and dreams. And they most certainly do not fucking pay me to care."

The drastic turn of events was finally settling over Flint's heart like a balm, ready to fix his self-inflicted wound. "So you're saying that you _meant_ it? _All of it_?" Half-wariness, half-hope.

Silver shrugged minutely. "Not the first month or so, but I'm pretty sure I never said anything even remotely personal during that time." He looked up at him. "But surely you felt a shift between us at some point? I know _I_ did."

Flint cupped Silver's neck tentatively. "I was lonely, Silver. Every single time I thought I saw something, I forced myself to disbelieve it."

He frowned, licking his lips before whispering, "So you were just going to let tonight be the end of this? The end of us?"

He smiled sadly. "I have nothing to offer you now."

Silver shook his head, bringing his hands up and cradling Flint's face. "You're wrong." He kissed him firmly on the lips, then brushed his thumbs gently over his cheekbones. "The moment you walked in through that door alive, you offered me a future." A bright, impossibly ernest smile. "And I'm going to take it."


End file.
